Learning To Forgive
by Please.Insert.Name
Summary: Third part of 'Learning To' series. At first he blamed Aaron's distance on grief, but then, as time passed, he grew more suspicious. Established H/R Spoilers for 'It Takes A Village' in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_'Camouflage is a game we all like to play, but our secrets are as surely revealed by what we want to seem to be as by what we want to conceal.' _  
><em>~ Russel Lynes<em>

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><p>Aaron was frowning, not that this was unusual in his line of work, but this look was different, and as his brown eyes flicked over Spencer's face, the young genius gulped slightly, clutching his coffee mug involuntarily tighter.<p>

It was night time. They were sitting in Aaron's office, the blinds were drawn, and the only light came from the lamp situated on the pristine desk. The warm glow seemed to highlight all the newly acquired lines on his lover's face, it made him seem older, but much, much more wearier.

This had started the week after Emily had died. Steadily Aaron's hours increased, Spencer going home to a cold bed, and waking up to find the sheets messed up, but containing no other being. It was as if his lover were a ghost, moving through life unobserved by the masses, but Spencer was still watching, and he certainly never liked what he was seeing.

An owl hooted, the sound permeating the otherwise quiet room, and reminding the young genius that there were other life forms nearby other than themselves. It seemed to shake Aaron too, for he placed the file he had been working on in his out-tray, and offered his companion a tired smile.

It never even reached his eyes.

Feeling more worry coil in his gut, Spencer wondered if this was a good idea. He was tired of not seeing his lover, fed up of wondering if the past three years had been a dream. He knew Aaron was still hurting. The incident with Emily would bring back what happened to Haley, and although he knew they were entirely different situations, to the Unit Chief it would be another life he failed to protect.

And that was why he was here. He never thought he would ever repay his debt to Aaron for helping him in the younger days of their relationship, but he could at least tip the scales slightly, even it up just involved getting him home at a reasonable hour.

Motioning for him to stand up, he watched Aaron automatically get to his feet. If this wasn't so serious, then Spencer would have made a reference to the rumour that he was a robot, his awkward mannerisms weren't helping it in the slightest, but he held his tongue, instead helping him into his winter coat.

The night was cold, no clouds obscured the celestial orbs shimmering in the darkened sky. The moon was shining brightly, casting her frosty rays down upon them. It was beautiful, away from the horrors of their jobs the natural world was a thing of wonder. However, tonight he barely glanced at it, and before he knew it they were sitting in his car, him fighting with the ignition before grinning as a growl emanated from the worn engine.

"I still think you should get another car," remarked Aaron, and Spencer breathed out a small sigh of relief that contact had finally been initiated.

The conversation had been stilted, long, awkward pauses interspacing bouts of random chat. One glance at Aaron told Spencer more than this. His eyes were looking a little more lively, but underneath Spencer saw something else, glimmering just enough to attract his attention.

But then it was gone, replaced quickly with mirth as Aaron told him something he heard an Agent say the other day about Strauss.

Dragon Lady was funny, right?

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><p>They had microwave lasagne that night. It was good if he said so himself. Spencer had recently found a passion for cooking, one that both Aaron and Jack loved. Polishing off the last bit, he noticed that Aaron was on his second glass of wine, whilst his first glass stood barely touched.<p>

Frowning, he cleared the table as Aaron went for his shower. Placing the dishes in the dishwasher - something he had insisted on when he moved in - he turned it on, and ambled through to the bedroom.

Late hours.

Perpetually depressed.

Higher alcohol intake.

Spencer mentally made a list, his concern only deepening. It had been almost a month since Emily had died, and whilst they were still grieving, they had managed to leave their mourning from work… All except Aaron.

Perhaps it was JJ's departure as well? Whilst being less permanent than Emily's, it was also another event that was taken from his control, another event that resulted in ramifications for the team his lover felt bound to protect. Spencer wasn't naïve enough to believe the problem lay with him. If it was to do with their relationship, then Aaron would have told him, they were far from shy in that respect, and his lover had learnt from his past relationship that by ignoring problems they then had an uncanny ability to get bigger.

Or had he for once chosen to ignore that?

When Aaron emerged from the bathroom, he clambered in beside Spencer, his hair slightly damp, but otherwise fine. He smelled of lemons, and Spencer inhaled the scent greedily, indulging in his senses for a brief moment.

And then the light went out.

No kiss.

Not even a half hearted 'goodnight.'

"Aaron?" Spencer's voice rang out in the darkness, and he wonder how when sharing a bed, the other could seem so far away.

"Mmmm?" came Aaron's noncommittal reply.

"Are you okay?" The question was juvenile, and Spencer felt childish just asking it, but now he was really worried, and that only grew as the silence stretched on.

"I'm fine," Aaron replied, shifting slightly in the bed as he did.

The reply sounded confident. He could hear the firmness in the tone.

However, that never meant he was convinced, and as he slowly drifted off to sleep, he knew that something had changed, and that scared him more than he could even say.

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><p><em>'Without accepting the fact that everything changes, we cannot find perfect composure. But unfortunately, although it is true, it is difficult for us to accept it. Because we cannot accept the truth of transience, we suffer.'<br>~ Shunryu Suzuki_

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><p><em>AN: This is the third part of the 'Learning To' series, I have the next chapter mapped out, but I can say right now this instalment won't be longer than three chapters. I'm still trying to balance my time between uni work, writing, and clubbing - the natural state of the student - so I don't know when the next part will be up, but I'll aim for next weekend. For anyone reading this who are also reading my other stuff, I will work to update all my ongoing fics as soon as possible, and I am sorry for the delay :) I know this part is short, but I hope you've enjoyed it, and reviews would be appreciated._

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds... but I do own Hotch... Against the law? ... RUN!_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter :)  
><em>


	2. Chapter 2

_'A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality.'_  
><em>~ Winston Churchill<em>

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><p>Spencer Reid knew a lot of things. He prided himself on his facts and figures, always able to contribute regardless of the topic. However, at this moment in time, Spencer was speechless, and oddity in itself, but one which paled in comparison to the reason.<p>

Emily Prentiss was alive.

His eyes flicked over to Aaron, taking in the worn appearance of his lover. He looked slightly gaunt, like he hadn't been eating enough, and his eyes contained the look of a man about to face a hurricane. His new assignment hadn't been easy, but Spencer could see this went deeper than that, and, for the first time, he felt a small bit of resentment coil in his gut, instead of the much more usual worry.

He had known. He had watched him struggle, cry, and on nights when it got too much held his shaking form as his mind went over a multitude of 'What If's'.

He had betrayed him.

Of course, the logical part of Spencer knew that Aaron had to do it, but for once he chose not to listen, instead he sculpted his expression into an impassive mask that threatened to rival his lover's.

He had been worried about him. He had monitored him, watching his lover become a ghost, and whilst part of him was relieved to know the cause, it never prevented the rapid flood of anger that he hadn't told him. For months he had thought it was him, he had been about to ask, but then the team had been split up, and with that his chance had gone.

For a moment, he truly hated Aaron Hotchner.

Aaron's eyes avoided his, guilt etched in those smouldering irises so deep that only Spencer could see it. The brief flash of joy he felt at this alarmed his more rational side, but his vindictive side purred, and as he wrapped his arms around Emily, his eyes flicked once more to Aaron.

He looked like a dead man walking.

And for once Spencer Reid wasn't compassionate, he wasn't forgiving, and when he left that room he felt Aaron's eyes on him, watching him walk away.

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><p>The moment Spencer left, the only thought going through Aaron's mind was '<em>Will I see him again?<em>' Of course he would see him in the physical sense, but would he see him in the mindset of a lover, of a confidant, of a friend? Or had he lost it all again?

Given the chance he would do it again in a heartbeat. Did that make him a bad person? He would allow his lover to suffer to save the life of a friend. He would watch his lover worry about him, unable to tell him the secret that occupied his thoughts.

Truthfully he never regretted it until Spencer had looked at him. In that one moment, he knew his lover truly hated him, and a vice clenched around his heart squeezing the battered organ.

Moving into his office, he sat down, taking a brief moment away from the case, and injecting his personal life into a place he had always kept it away from.

There really was no way he could make it up to Spencer. No romantic gestures or words would take away the sting of betrayal that was now consuming the young genius's emotions. He would be angry in general, that was undeniable. After that would come focused resentment, followed by self destruction.

If that last look had signalled anything it meant Spencer was in stage two. He wouldn't allow his anger to interfere with his work, he would be more terse, but with Declan on the line he would put the child first. It was when they got home there would be the explosion, and Aaron desperately hoped they would survive this.

Placing the FBI persona back on, he walk out of the briefing room, his appearance giving no hint of the torment inside.

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><p><em>'Never cut a tree down in the wintertime. Never make a negative decision in the low time. Never make your most important decisions when you are in your worst moods. Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come.'<em>  
><em>~ Robert H. Schuller<em>

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><p><em>AN: Thank you for the feedback! I am truly sorry this has taken so long, and for such a short chapter! I've been swept up with coursework - if this is first year I'm dreading second - and life is a little busy right now. I will try and have the last part up soon-ishm- I'm on holiday this week and so if all goes according to plan it should be by next weekend :)_

_Also, I've been nominated for best Hotch/Morgan for my story Waiting To Exhale in the Profiler's Choice CM Awards 2011, and would just like to thank anyone who voted! To say I was surprised is an understatement :D_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds *sigh*_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review!_


	3. Chapter 3

_'The word "happiness" would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.' _  
><em>~Carl Jung<em>

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><p>It was silence that greeted Aaron when he stepped foot in 'their' home. Officially it was under his name, but no one knew that Spencer had paid for half, or that he in fact lived there. Spencer had trusted him enough to do that, and as he strode across the black tile of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing ominously, for the first time he felt the place was too big.<p>

Flipping on the lights, the kitchen and adjoining lounge were illuminated. It was a warm glow, and he cast a fond eye over the couch, remembering how they had cuddled there only yesterday, the embrace loving, and the feel of Spencer's hot breath against his neck, as he pretended the horror film never scared him. Aaron suspected he only watched these things as an excuse to burrow into him, but he had never mentioned it, and it wasn't as if it wasn't welcomed after all.

Moving on, his wandering eye caught onto the dining table, remembering the time he had tried to cook Spencer a meal. Travelling as much as he did, and the late hours he used to pull as a prosecutor, he had grown used to a diet of takeaways and easy dinners.

To say it had gone well would be like saying puppies weren't cute.

Spencer had looked at him, his brown eyes filled with amusement, and to save face Aaron had still eaten what was supposed to be salmon teriyaki, maintaining that it was delicious.

He felt he deserved a medal for making it through the first bite. Even Spencer had given up, instead claiming he had had a big lunch, but still Aaron carried on. He guessed the subsequent vomiting didn't help his charade, but the reward Spencer had given him had made it more than worth it.

Running his hand along the smooth stone of the fireplace, he recalled Spencer's wonder at seeing a coal fire. When he was younger his mother's condition meant that such laborious things weren't practical, and, despite having three PhD's, the wonder in the young genius's eyes as the flames licked one of the logs Aaron had bought from the petrol station had been more than worth it. Jack had also loved it, and on winter nights he would often tell them stories by the fireside, marshmallows hanging precariously close to the fire as his lover and son hung onto his every word, the treats forgotten in favour of whatever fantasy he was spinning.

And then he stopped, his eyes burning as he realised this might not happen anymore. No more nights by the fireside, no more attempts at cooking, no more cuddling on the couch.

Looking back, he was like drowning man treasuring his last breath.

Unashamedly, he felt a tear fall down his cheek, his years under his father's wrath teaching him to make no noise. Dejected footsteps took him slowly across the lounge, and he slumped into what used to be his armchair. Spencer had always joked that he needed it or he would get a bad back. Cracking a small smile at this, he felt more tears fall, hearing the gentle splash as they came into contact with the cold, wooden floor.

"Aaron?" Spencer's voice came from the hall, the silence shattered, and the shards piercing his bubble of memory. Looking up through watery eyes, he saw his lover shrouded in a bathrobe, noticing immediately that it was one of his, too big for Spencer's lanky frame.

"Spencer, I thought you had gone," croaked Aaron, his voice thick with tears, and he quickly cleared his throat.

"This is my home too remember," said Spencer, no hint of bitterness in his voice, as he sat down on the couch.

"Yeah," replied Aaron lamely, his eyes fixed to the floor, mapping every grain and knot in the worn wood. "I can have my stuff out by next weekend, and I'll look into getting an apartment first thing tomorrow," the words tasted like ash on his tongue, and he was glad that Jack was away to his grandparents this weekend so he would have time to come up with a story.

Silence fell after this comment, it dragged on until Aaron could barely stand it. Then, gratefully, Spencer's hesitant voice rang throughout the room.

"A, Aaron, I don't want you to move out."

"Spencer, I betrayed you, I went behind your back and the team's, and I can say right now that I would do it again," Aaron cursed himself for combating the words he so desperately wanted to hear, but he never wanted Spencer to say this, then when the full knowledge settled in to realise he had made a mistake, and he never wanted him in his life anymore.

"I know that, but I know you had no choice. I'm not going to lie, I am angry you never confided in me, but if that had somehow let Doyle know, and then resulted in Emily's death then it was worth it. Earlier, I felt you hadn't trusted me enough, that somehow you distancing yourself was my fault, and then to find out that you had let me believe that, lied to me all those months…" Spencer trailed off, his eyes glistening slightly.

"I had no idea you thought that, Spencer, believe me, if I did I would have proven otherwise," said Aaron, for the first time locking eyes with his lover, his voice burning with conviction.

"I know that, but it doesn't change how I felt, or what I thought. You completely locked me out, Aaron, and I don't want that to happen again."

"It won't," promised Aaron.

"How can you say that? What if there is another Emily, or even another Doyle? In this job you never know what will happen," protested Spencer, the slightest glimmer of anger appearing in his eyes.

"Fine, I can't promise that, but I can promise that if I ever do have to hide anything from you again, then I will not lock you out," the anger faded with this, and Spencer smiled slightly.

"Do you really promise?" Spencer looked like a lost child, his eyes roaming Aaron's face for any hint of a lie.

"Yes, Spencer," Aaron wanted to reach out, to touch him and show him he meant what he said, but instead he refrained, hoping his voice would show the truth in his words.

"This is where I apologise for shredding a few of your suits isn't it?" Spencer chuckled after a few moments.

"I hope they weren't the expensive ones," groaned Aaron, the catharsis acting as a balm on his frayed emotions.

"You know the stages of anger as well as me, the more expensive the better," said Spencer sheepishly, running his fingers through his hair.

"Are we alright?" Aaron injected some seriousness back into the conversation.

"We will be," said Spencer truthfully, standing up and offering Aaron his hand.

Heading to the bedroom, Aaron smiled. Yes, their relationship had changed. Yes, it was going to take a lot of time to get over this. Yes, his best suits had been destroyed. However, despite the odds, at this moment in time he was happy, and looking at the quiet joy in Spencer's eyes, he saw he was too.

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><p><em>'If you're walking down the right path and you're willing to keep walking, eventually you'll make progress.'<em>  
><em>~Barack Obama<em>

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><p><em>AN: Thank you for the feedback! I hope this ending is realistic, I never wanted them to resolve everything, but leaving it with them at complete odds with each other would just be depressing. I'm sorry this has taken so long, I'm pretty ill at the moment, and haven't really left my bed in about a week *groan* Still, now I feel a bit better it's at least given me time to finish this, so that's one good thing I guess! I hope you've enjoyed this story, I know it was a little angsty, and if I post more in this universe it will be happier - that I definitely promise! I would appreciate it if you reviewed, and thank you for reading :)_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds, but I do own Hotch... Wait?... No, he is not fictional... I am not mad... Please don't take me away, I'll be good!_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._


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